


we'll be the stars

by ofsinnersandsaints



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode 58, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, because 'talking quietly to each other night' is what fuels my soul, i just wanted to write more fjorester, late night conversations and star gazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 23:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofsinnersandsaints/pseuds/ofsinnersandsaints
Summary: I just love the conversations Fjord and Jester have when they're the only ones up and it's dark out, the way they talk to each other is stuff of shipping dreams so here's a little conversation I like to think happened before the night a giant threw a rock at Yasha...“Well, you’re very strong and very smart and you can be intimidating when you want to be,” Fjord shook his head at the list of compliments, not entirely sure why Jester insisted on placating him with niceties, but was embarrassed by them just the same. “But I don’t think it’s who you are, and you’re so good at mimicking people that I just thought, you know, you were mimicking someone in particular. I was wondering who.”“Oh.” He’d used voices around the rest of the group, so they knew he could fake an accent, but Jester was the only one who knew how well. It made sense she thought he was doing an imitation of someone, but didn’t explain why she’d been so coy about it. “Well, no. I wasn’t thinkin’ of anyone specific, just assholes in general. Why?”





	we'll be the stars

The Mighty Nein set up camp a little off the road, and while Caleb’s little bubble would keep them safe and warm they’d all gotten into the routine and almost homely habits of setting up camp: Beau would gather firewood while Caleb cast his spells. Jester and Nott took care of the animals, Caduceus always cooked.

Fjord and Yasha walked the perimeter.

Together, they took almost a half an hour walking through the woods surrounding the place where they’d sleep, making sure there weren’t any fresh tracks or bandits hiding in the brush. Sure, the Mighty Nein had taken care of the Syphilis Bandits more than once, but Fjord would never risk another kidnapping.

And he could tell by the way Yasha’s jaw was set and how she kept her sword in her hand she felt the same.

Never again.

Eventually they made their way back to camp to see the group hanging around the fire, eating whatever Caduceus had managed to whip up in the middle of nowhere.

Yasha veered off towards the bubble, mumbling something about sharpening her sword, and Fjord had barely blinked before Jester was walking around the campfire towards him. “Oh good, you’re back! Caduceus made stew.”

“Any meat in it?” Fjord asked as he accepted the proffered bowl.

“I put some of the jerky in it,” Jester answered sitting down and because Fjord couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing, he sat down next to her. They were a few feet from the rest of the group, everyone taking the time before sleep to wind down. “Caduceus still doesn’t like cooking meat, so he took out his portion and then I put in the meat and softened it up for the rest of us.”

“Thanks,” he started eating and Jester took a few bites next to him.

Jester was a talker by nature, but they’d spent enough time in each other’s company she could calm down a bit around him. Those first few days they’d traveled together had been almost nothing but a constant stream of chatter, but he could he almost feel her calming beside him.

“That was pretty impressive, by the way. The way you got that miner guy to listen to you.”

Fjord paused, spoon half way to his mouth. “Oh. Uh, thanks Jester. I appreciated your backup, Lieutenant.”

Jester grinned at the title, “No problem. It was really cool, you know? How you were so ‘grr.’ If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were super scary. Who were you pretending be?”

She’d slipped in that last question on the end of a string of words like she was trying to hide it. “Say again?”

“Well, you’re very strong and very smart and you can be intimidating when you want to be,” Fjord shook his head at the list of compliments, not entirely sure why Jester insisted on placating him with niceties, but was embarrassed by them just the same. “But I don’t think it’s who you are, and you’re so good at mimicking people that I just thought, you know, you were mimicking someone in particular. I was wondering who.”

“Oh.” He’d used voices around the rest of the group, so they knew he could fake an accent, but Jester was the only one who knew how well. It made sense she thought he was doing an imitation of someone, but didn’t explain why she’d been so coy about it. “Well, no. I wasn’t thinkin’ of anyone specific, just assholes in general. Why?”

“Oh, no reason.”

Fjord shook his head, she was a terrible liar. “Jester.”

“What?” she asked, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence and he had to stop himself from being amused by the tact.

“You know what,” he grumbled, looking down at his bowl so she wouldn’t see him smile. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, I just thought, you know, if it was a specific person, I could tell the Traveler about them.”

Fjord looked up at that, surprised by the answer. “Why? What would the Traveler do?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know if he’d actually do anything, but I thought if he was bored one day or something he could drop in on someone who was mean to you and tattoo a dick on their forehead or something.”

“Is that what you’d do?”

“Yep,” she tucked her knees under her dress and wrapped her arms around it. He knew she wasn’t cold, it took a lot for Jester to even think about cold, but he had to resist the knee jerk instinct to offer her his coat or something just the same. “Because that’s what friends do.”

He was briefly confused, and more than a little amused. “They draw dicks on their childhood bullies’ foreheads?”

“Tattoo,” she corrected, with emphasis. “They tattoo dicks.”

“Naturally.”

“And not bullies. Or not just bullies, because you weren’t bullying that guy, Fjord. You were just a little condescending which I bet has happened to you lot because people are dicks. Hence the tattoos.” She smiled at him and shrugged a little. “I don’t really know what friends do. The Traveler was my first friend and he didn’t really need me to fight bullies for him.”

“I don’t need you to fight bullies for me either, Jester. I can fight them myself if I want to.”

“I know,” she allowed, but her smile faltered a little and Fjord thought about touching her to give her some comfort, but felt unsure about it. Funny, they’d spent the day practically plastered against each other on Yarnball, but putting his hand on hers felt bigger somehow. More intimate. Like crossing a line he couldn’t go back from. “You’re strong and you’ve got magic, but…”

When it didn’t seem like she was going to finish he pressed, “But what?”

“But when you were little you didn’t have any of that. And if we’d known each other when we were younger you would have been my first friend instead of my second, and I could have fought the bullies for you.” She looked up to meet his gaze, lavender eyes lit by firelight and so earnest he wondered what it was like to feel so freely. “So, I figured, better late than never, right?”

“Jester,” he started, and the word came out too soft and too warm, and there couldn’t be any way she didn’t hear all the heartbeats behind it.

“It’s stupid,” and she moved like she might get up but he stopped her with a hand. The skin to skin contact sent a quick and sharp spark up his arm. He’d gotten too good at hiding behind the masks, the accent, she had no idea what she meant to him.

“No, Jester, it’s not stupid. In fact, it might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“That’s just sad, Fjord.”

Because she said it like an admonition, he grinned. “How ‘bout this, when we come across Sabien, you can tattoo a dick on his forehead.”

Jester clapped her hands together, her legs falling so she was sitting cross-legged. “Oh, good! I’ll have to practice a lot so I can give him a really good dick.”

“What constitutes a good dick?” Fjord asked, his eyes widening when he realized what he’d said. He stammered as he tried to cover the double entendre, “I mean…In this instance, with the tattooing, what constitutes as good?”

“Oh, I think the more realistic the better,” she answered as if this was something she’d thought about before. “Lots of detail.”

“All the veins, and hair and stuff,” Fjord added sagely. “I think that’d be appropriate.”

“It’ll be so gross, it’s going to be awesome.”

From the other side of the fire Caleb popped his head out of the hut, making sure to keep his body inside so the spell didn’t dissipate. It was a handy thing, that spell. Fjord wished he could do something half as useful with his magic. “We should probably all be getting to bed, ja? It’s getting late and we have to fight giants tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe we’re fighting multiple giants,” Nott complained as she headed for the hut. “Whose dumb idea was this anyway?”

“Pretty sure everyone’s,” Beau deadpanned, getting up.

From their spot on the ground Fjord shifted his gaze from the group to Jester, he wasn’t quite ready to get up and walk away. Jester studied him in the flickering light, he could see her eyes moving over his face and then she turned to Caleb. “Fjord and I are going to take first watch.”

Caleb looked confused as Beau stopped next to him, “But in the bubble we don’t need-Ow! What was that for?”

Beau couldn’t fake innocence, so she didn’t even try. Instead, Fjord watched as she looked Caleb in the eye and outright lied. “You had a bug on you.”

He looked like he was about to argue but Beau pushed Caleb inside, then let Caduceus in first. “You guys have fun,” she called, a knowing smile at the edge of her lips. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Fjord glared at Beau but the effect was likely lost in the dark of the night with only the flames' illumination. Beau only grinned and slipped into the hut, leaving him and Jester outside by themselves.

“If you’re tired-“ he started.

“I’m not,” she interrupted with the kind of certainty she held in nearly every other aspect of her life. She leaned back on her elbows, tilting her head up to sky where it was inky black and covered in glitter. Wasn’t that how she’d first described it all those nights ago? The first time they’d been on their own in the wilderness.

Jester had looked up at the sky, no town lights or torches to dim the beauty of the night, and marveled at how clear the stars were. “It’s like the sky is covered in glitter,” she’d whispered reverently. She’d used that same tone when she’d talked about the jellyfish, and while many of the sailors Fjord had known would have laughed at the description, Fjord had only been awed because there had been earnest wonder and amazement in her voice.

Her words, the way she’d spoken them, had been exactly what he’d felt the first time he’d seen the stars out on the ocean.

He just hadn’t been brave enough to say it out loud.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

Bringing himself back to the present Fjord looked at Jester who was carefully watching him, and he wondered how long he’d been staring at her while he remembered that night less than a year ago.

He smiled at the suggestion and it felt a little bit rueful and more than a little affectionate on his lips. “Sure, Jester.”

She smiled, she was always smiling, and laid down on her back and Fjord watched her. “Aren’t we supposed to be on watch?”

The look she gave him was unimpressed, “Didn’t you and Yasha walk around before we ate?”

“Yeah?”

“And everyone’s safe inside the bubble?”

“Yeah?”

She shrugged against the dirt and grass, “Then I’d say we’re pretty darn safe.”

Fjord opened his mouth to ask why she’d offered to take first watch and caught her stare, the realization coming over him slowly like a tide. “Right, uh, good point.”

He stretched out beside her, crossing his ankles and resting his hands on his stomach as he looked up at the stars. With a keen eye he studied the constellations, ticking off the names to himself and then dismissing them until he found one he liked.

This was something they’d done since the first night. Jester hadn’t been able to see the stars very clearly from her mama’s house. There was so much light in the city and from the home itself she could mostly only see the moon when it was bright and high enough. But out in the wilds, once she realized that not only did Fjord know the constellations, but had names and stories for them, she’d pestered him almost every night for a story from the sky.

Inevitably she’d interrupt him half way through, sticking in plot points and characters the original tellings didn’t have, but more often than not he enjoyed her versions. They usually had more romance, more unicorns, but they were always, always happier.

Eventually they’d gotten to the point where he’d just point out a cluster of stars, tell her the name, and then let her go to town. He’d told her at one point she should write them down, maybe draw them out, but she’d waved away the suggestion telling him she was just having fun and why would anyone want to read her stories anyway?

Fjord shifted next to her, their shoulders nearly brushing, and pointed up to a host of stars off to their right, just barely visible over the tree line. “There, it’s seven stars, see the almost straight line? Four across?”

“Yes, I see them.”

“Then there’s one on top, one of bottom, and one kind of in front of the four?”

She was silent for a moment and he gave her the chance to see the image in her head, “What’s it supposed to be?”

“Crossbow,” he answered.

“I see it! What’s the name?”

“Holden’s Bolt.”

“That’s boring,” she scolded.

“I didn’t name it.”

“What’s the story?”

Fjord turned his head, surprised and unsettled by how close her face was to his. How did she always smell a little bit like cinnamon? “I thought that was your job,” and maybe his voice was a couple of octaves lower than it usually was, and maybe Vandran’s accent slipped a little and the Real Fjord shone through.

It was hard to hide himself around her.

“I’ve decided I want to know what the story was so I know how to make it better.”

“Whatever you say, Jellyfish.”

Her eyes narrowed briefly at the nickname which had slipped out of his mouth, natural as anything, and then her eyes widened with something akin to awe. The curve of her lips lifting so slowly it was like watching the moon rise of the ocean, and when she showed her teeth the stars came out.

He felt that smile somewhere near his soul which proved it was still, somehow, just a little bit his.

“Holden was a warrior,” Fjord recalled. “I don’t remember why, there was probably a great and terrible story as to why he became a fighter.”

Jester smiled, a little wry, “People who are perfectly happy and perfectly normal don’t fight dragons.”

Fjord laughed, “Fair point. So one of the gods, I don’t remember which one-“

“You don’t know much about this,” she pointed, sounding as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“The whole idea of this game is for you to tell the story, I specifically picked one I didn’t know much about.”

“Oh, well. That was very sweet of you, Fjord.” She scrunched her nose, her whole face shifting in thought. “Okay. It’s not Holden’s Bolt.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s Rosamund’s Revenge.”

Fjord smiled, already intrigued. “Do tell.”

Jester went on to create a wild story of a woman named Rosamund who, unsurprisingly, fell in love with a dashing half-orc named Ivan who was captured by a devilish witch. Determined to get her love back, she’d already bought the wedding dress Jester had explained, she taught herself how to fight and bought the best crossbow she could find and went out into the woods.

There was a range of obstacles for Rosamund to get through, and Nugget made a small cameo as a dog who led the way to the witch’s cottage. Inside was the body of Ivan, cold from death, and in fit of a rage Rosamund shot the bolt through the witch’s heart, but the witch was cruel and vengeful to last. Before she died, she cursed the heroine with eternal life so she’d have to live forever without her love.

After the witch had perished Rosamund ran to her beloved and cried over his dead body. A spell had been cast on Ivan so he didn’t wither away and Rosamund couldn’t imagine burying him, or leaving him, but she knew he wouldn’t have wanted to stay in the cottage forever, grieving him.

So she cried her tears, she mourned her loss, and then she took her crossbow to defend those who had no one to care for them. She had lost her heart, and vowed no one else would lose their while she lived.

And she was going to live forever.

It had been ten years of defending cities and towns from dragons and giants and evil and she was tired so she did what she always did when she needed a rest from the fight, she went back to the witch’s cottage which she now considered her own.

But this time, Ivan was not lying on the bed where he had rested since his death.

He was sitting on it.

Ivan lived!

Because Rosamund had love so purely and so courageously, because she had fought so hard for those in need the gods had rewarded her by bringing Ivan back to life with the promise that he would not die again until she did.

“So they’re immortal?” Fjord clarified when Jester paused in her story.

“Yes,” Jester nodded, turning on her side to face him. “But they got bored fighting, tired of always bleeding, and who wants to be angry for the rest of eternity? So Rosamund put her crossbow in the sky and they explored the world. Sometimes they’re farmers, sometimes sailors,” she poked him with her finger, waggling her eyebrows until he smiled. “They change it up every few decades, and every once in a while she’ll pull down her crossbow and use it again, but most of the time they just spend their time together, digging their toes into the sand and staring at the ocean. The witch had cursed her with eternity and Rosamund was glad for it.”

“Her revenge was a happy life,” Fjord realized, amazed at how she’d managed to do that.

“Isn’t it the best kind of revenge?” she asked genuinely.

“Yeah, Jester. I think it is.”

Her smile was soft and he tucked it away, catalogued with all the smiles he had carefully organized and labelled in the back of his mind, deep in his heart.

“We should probably go to bed.”

Fjord couldn’t argue, he was tired. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He got up first, turning to hold his hand out to her which she accepted easily enough, but when they walked towards the hut she didn’t let go, and neither did he until they walked inside.

Turns out, they did do something Beau wouldn’t.


End file.
